


beyond the horizon

by VagabondDawn



Category: Log Horizon
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Lander!Shiroe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VagabondDawn/pseuds/VagabondDawn
Summary: When the catastrophe hits and Akatsuki finds herself in Theldesia in a body not her own, she needs help.Luckily, she's near the Horizon Tower — home to the famous Archmage Shiroe.





	beyond the horizon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pepperdoken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepperdoken/gifts).

> Request by Pepperdoken
> 
> Fandom: Log Horizon  
Group: Akatsuki & Shiroe (Log Horizon)  
LH: Always A Lander AU  
ALL: Alternate First Meetings

The laboratory is dark as Shiroe tinkers with the magical instruments, attempting to retrieve the rash of measurements and readings they generated that morning and recalibrate them to _work again._ Whatever spell had been cast, whatever magic they had tried to analyse and quantify… it had been big. 

It’s detailed, frustrating, confusing work so he nearly misses it when there's a rattling from the ground floor of the tower — the massively overlarge front door has been opened. 

He has a visitor. 

Truthfully, that’s not so usual. For what is effectively a reclusive wizard tower, the Horizon Tower sees a fairly high volume of traffic — from people with requests for the Archmage, to deliveries of goods and magical ingredients, to Adventurers, to people simply marvelling at the architectural wonder of the Tower itself. 

Despite appearances, Shiroe doesn’t mind it. His natural inclination_ is_ to hole himself away, and he does grow irritated when visitors disturb his study but… the challenge of interacting with people is one he knows he needs. 

It would be easy to be a reclusive wizard in truth, but it would also be a poor and lonely life. 

So he puts aside his tools and leaves the laboratory, heading for the stairs. Now that his attention is drawn away from his work, he notes the time — nearly dusk — and feels a flash of unease. 

This is the first time he’s been interrupted all day. 

A large, nearly immeasurable spell… and a day of silence. 

Perhaps he _should_ have gone to the nearest town, afterall. It had seemed unlikely that the results of it would be so obvious and yet… 

Well. It cannot be that all people have vanished if he has a visitor. 

Shiroe shakes his head at his own thoughts. 

“Welcome to the Horizon Tower,” he says, as he descends down the staircase and enters the Tower foyer. It’s a wide open space, mostly empty, but nicely lit by floating magelights and filled with trophies from the Debauchery Tea Party days. 

His visitor — an Adventurer — is standing in the open doorway, backlit by the setting sun and naught more than a silhouette. Tall, though, and well armed. Not wearing the bulk of a Warrior’s armour, though that narrows it down only a little. 

They are also leaning heavily against the door frame, listing sideways with an unhealthy slump. 

Problematic. Shiroe is no healer, though there _are_ healing potions within the Tower. Somewhere. Most likely. He tends to give them out as rewards, so he _probably_ has some around still. 

"I need," the Adventurer says, strangely high pitched and breathless, "your help." 

Shiroe adjusts his glasses. "So, I see," he says. "Won't you come in, Adventurer?" 

The Adventurer lurches forward, more a controlled stumble than any coherent locomotion. Some kind of poison effect perhaps? Or a disorientation spell? The local monsters are mostly forest slimes and elemental shards, but there are the occasional cockatrice and there is a dungeon within a day of travel — occasionally Adventurer parties stop here on their way to a raid. 

If that’s the case, it could be any of a dozen different debuffs. 

The Adventurer passes out of the doorway and into the soft mage light of the Tower so Shiroe can finally see them. See _him_. 

Not a Warrior, no. An _assassin_. Shiroe feels a lurch of fear at the intimidating class even though its unnecessary. Most People of the Land would lose against even the weakest Adventurer, but there are those who are leagues stronger than them — the Ancients, the Royal Knights, Archmages like Shiroe himself. 

And this Adventurer does not appear at the top of his game. 

Currently, anyway. Shiroe runs an assessing eye over his gear and finds it high class and high quality. A Black Costume of Eternal Night, a Kiln-Turned Tenmoku Sword, a Heliotrope Hairpin… expensive and with good stats. 

“You should… sit down,” Shiroe says, awkwardly. 

There aren’t exactly any _seats_ in the foyer, but there is a perma-locked treasure chest that makes an adequate bench for the assassin to perch on. 

For a second, Shiroe thinks that the assassin looks familiar. There’s little enough to see — he wears both hood and mask, leaving only the barest glimpse of purple eyes and dark purple hair, pale skin and sharp, narrow face — but Shiroe tries to place it. He might have given this man a quest once, or fought beside him or... 

The details blur in his mind, washing the identities of all the Adventurers together like wet paint. He cannot pick out any names or faces and say that he _remembers_ them, individually. 

Concerning. Shiroe has an excellent memory for facts. 

He thinks about the Debauchery Tea Party and remembers them just fine — Kanami and Naotsugu and Nyanta and the two years of wild, carefree exploration they'd done, running off on a whim — but nothing of the Adventurers they'd travelled with, made friends with. 

Kanami was _always_ making friends with her crazy schemes. That’s a fact. So why can’t he remember any of them? 

"What aid do you require?" Shiroe asks the assassin. 

The assassin hesitates, briefly before plunging forward. "I need," he says, voice still _off_, "an Appearance Reset Potion. Please. I have gold." 

Shiroe's mind whirls. "How fascinating," he says, adjusting his glasses again. The light catches on them for a moment, blocking out his sight. 

_Appearance Reset Potion_. A strange name for a strange potion. _Reset_, as if there were some original form, some default, that had been deviated from. 

Why should _that_ be so? 

“I… believe I have one,” he says, thinking back. He had wanted to study it, though he was a scribe and not an alchemist, but now he isn’t sure exactly when or where he had acquired it. Had it not just… been there, one day? “Keep your gold. I would much rather you tell me what has happened.” 

The assassin stares at him blankly. “What has happened?” he repeats. “What makes you think I know?” 

“Oh, I don’t expect you to _know_,” Shiroe clarifies, hand coming up to his chin. “But this morning there was a large spell that most likely resulted in your… situation. I would be very interested in your perspective on events.” 

A large spell. Perhaps even _the largest_ kind of spell. 

What change has the World Fraction wrought this time? 

**Author's Note:**

> Beyond the horizon, behind the sun  
At the end of the rainbow life has only begun  
In the long hours of twilight 'neath the stardust above  
Beyond the horizon it is easy to love  
-Bob Dylan - Beyond The Horizon

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Oh Happy Daggers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547912) by [amsves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amsves/pseuds/amsves)


End file.
